'
Pain is all he brought back with him. Entering Celestia's life once more out of the darkness as he had. Nothing but pain and death. He was supposed to be dead, to rest in peace. Instead he was supposedly here, bringing nothing but ruin and destruction along with him. Why did the dead torment her so? She loved him in life, supported his efforts. Instead he rebuffed her attempts to help him out of pride and went down a dark path. One which forced her to eject him from not only Canterlot but from Equestria itself or be scorned by all those beloved ponies around her. A place he fled to escape from tyranny all those years ago. A safe haven from pain and insecurity. He did it to himself. Celestia was certain of that.
The loyal solar guards, supported by a full three platoons of each type of pony and formerly reserve allies fought a path straight towards the ridiculously powerful puppet ahead. They made no secret of their objective. She did not hope to approach undetected. The enemy puppets in the way were among the more powerful. This made sense, considering what they were approaching. Likely the absolute strongest of all faced so far. The pony make sword it wielded was a true relic. An artifact of a time long since forgotten by all. A weapon imbued with a deathly fire which wreathed the blade in destructive energy not seen in literal ages. It was an evil thing not meant to be here, yet there it was. Not even slightly damaged.
The concerted effort of driving straight for him would surely come as a surprise even to a brilliant tactician such as he. She knew he understood war. This move would hopefully throw him off guard. This many fighting their way across the battlefield were slaying puppets left and right, ensuring putting them down and out of action permanently. Not knowing how many puppets were truly left did not instill any confidence, but they were definitely putting a heavy dent in their numbers despite taking some losses on this path. Two of the large dragons, both now seriously injured in many places saw this action from afar and considered leaping to their aid but found themselves unable to get extricated from the sheer amount of puppets assaulting their location without endangering the other defenders surrounding unnecessarily. This was perhaps good as it was drawing large numbers their way.
All eyes were slowly turning towards the unfolding battle line heading directly for the puppet. Celestia let her guards plow the road towards them. She would need every ounce of power she could muster. If this was to be her death she would ensure it counted. Celestia took in the battle. Mourning fallen guards as they were stripped from her defense. How dare he do this of all things? His hatred towards her was senseless. She only ever helped him, spoke to him, calmed his fears and kindled his hope to stay by her side. Celestia did nothing wrong, she was absolutely assured of this. Whatever drove him now was strange and warped. A desire with no apparent starting point. She could feel that blazing vile sword ahead.
Where did a pony come by the horrible will to craft such a weapon? Why a sword? They were not the most wieldy weapons for ponies either, even with some modifications for muzzle handling. It must have taken strength and time. To make something with such wicked intent and that kind of power contained within was a task even she would consider a tremendous risk to undertake. The fact it was forged and twisted to such a degree showed an immeasurable patience was behind the production thereof. One pushed by absolute hatred alone. How could a pony have come to that? What was worse, how did its creator manage to bend such a thing to serve their desire? Imagining it was horrifying to Celestia.
Now it served a new master. One entirely willing to use it and the full force following behind. This was not made for conquering, only destroying. The puppet itself was making no move as yet. He must know by now she was heading directly for it. Somewhere ahead in the dim light she could see it flaring. Sloughing off waves of unsettling energies. Far worse than anything else as yet gracing the field of battle. Celestia even dared imagine enemy numbers were dropping as they were cleaved and cleared aside into piles of shattered creepily painted mounds of wood and dead bodies. Unicorns blasting ahead with all their might to forge a path for her. She felt so bad asking this of her guards and allies. So many were being hurt or worse.
There it was. Encircled by the more massive of the available puppets. The head slowly tilted up and turned towards those so daring as to bring the fight this way. For this Celestia had opted to don something she never expected a need for. Full battle regalia. It was once relegated to a display stand in a nearby museum. Even in this dulled land of smoke, ash and death her golden armor gleamed and shimmered with an inner light. The ponies which crafted it had done so with true passion. It was after all, for her. Long since gone from the world, they would be proud to see her wear their finest work. Princess Celestia strode forth across the acrid and withered dirt. The smell of decay and death in her nostrils and the sounds thereof ringing in her ears. One good fight. She only needed to win. Surviving was irrelevant.
Those ringing that thing falsely calling itself nothing other than War incarnate spread apart and backed away. Wearing a representation of Justice was mocking in itself. Her gaze locked with the puppet now turning towards her. Coming here was a silent challenge. This would be a duel he had to accept. Celestia bore a sword with her as well. All lit and flowing with light inside the blade. Two could play this game and she was well prepared to do so.
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Battle brothers and sisters through it all, while they live or where they fall